


Waking Up in Vegas

by TwitchPotter



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cas strips badly, Dean has a hangover, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff and Smut and a touch of Crack, Happy Ending, Implied Sabriel but it really could just be friendship, M/M, Vegas, i'm awful at tags, minor smut, this is my first fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 12:01:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6518488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwitchPotter/pseuds/TwitchPotter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Also known as, "That Time When Dean Got Drunk And Lucy The Stripper Meddles And It Leads To Shenanigans". Features a really bad striptease, meddling strippers, sexy time, fuzzy socks, and some really spectacular nicknames for Sam.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waking Up in Vegas

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! I've been reading fanfiction in various fandoms for about six our seven yeaers now, and I've attempted to write my own multiple times, but I can never get past a few pages. Then it suddenly occurred to me - #OneShots. I started watching Supernatural less than a year ago and I'm already caught up and a die-hard Destiel shipper. Here's my first fic I've EVER POSTED (please be nice)! Yay! This was an idea I had while I was supposed to be writing a paper. It's kind of cliche, I guess - Dean wakes up in Vegas with no memories of the night before. But I tried to put my own twist on that! Please enjoy, and comment!!!!!  
> P.S. - I've also never written smut before, so if it's awful, I'm so sorry!

Dean became conscious like a drowning person finally getting their head above the water – there was an awful lot of gasping and flailing and racing of the heart. The light streaming in through the blinds felt like it was trying to kill him by melting his eyes into his brain, and the urge to hurl was overwhelmingly strong.

“You’re up.”

He turned his aching head to see Cas sitting in the corner of the room, wearing clothing that was most definitely not a trench coat and a badly tailored business suit. He was shirtless, his pale torso littered with bite marks and a smear of an unidentified, slightly crusty substance. His pants were skin tight, and Dean couldn’t really tell from across the room but they just may have been made of leather. His gaze traveled all the way down to the socks – fuzzy yellow and black socks, to be specific, like the kind a thirteen year old girl would probably lose her shit over.

So understandably, “Guh” was the only thing that came out of his mouth.

Cas raised an eyebrow ever so slightly, seemingly unconcerned about his very questionable attire. This drew Dean’s attention to the hair, which looked like it had gone ten rounds with a champion prize fighter, won, then eaten its victim in a celebratory feast.

“What in the hell,” he finally rasped out, just now realizing that his throat felt like he had been breathing fire for the last twenty four hours.

“You’ll need to be more specific.”

Dean swallowed, willing back the bile he felt rising just from sitting up in bed. There was leather involved, he at least needed to be somewhat up. Leaving the mess of blankets didn’t seem possible at the moment, but he could sit up and investigate this like a man. Probably.

“How about where are we? Also, when did we get to wherever we are? Where’s Sam? And for the love of God, what is on your body?” he demanded, and Cas let out a sigh.

“I’m guessing from the amount of questions you have, you haven’t retained any memories of last night.”

“That would be a big fat no.”

Cas looked at him intensely, his face showing caution and nervousness, along with a little bit of what almost looked like hurt. He seemed to come to a decision, then rose, crossing the room.

“This may be a bit disorienting,” he said, and before Dean could even register in his alcohol soaked brain what was going on, reached out and gently touched his forehead with two fingers.

The memories slammed into him like a ton of bricks.

 

_Finishing the case, talking Sammy into heading to Vegas for a mild celebration._

_Hitting a bar._

_Shots._

_Deciding there weren’t enough naked people._

_Dragging Sam to a strip club._

_Shots again, off of gorgeous toned women wearing basically nothing._

_Being bored._

_Shots._

_Texting Cas, telling him it was an “emergency of the worst sort” and that he needed to get there “ASPA”, which was supposed to say “ASAP” but he was too tipsy to care._

_Cas arriving in a hurry, rushing straight past the naked women and to Dean’s side, which, as far as he was concerned, was where he should have been all along._

_Talking Cas into staying in the “den of iniquity” by most-definitely-not pouting._

_Victory shot with an angel of the lord._

_Lap dance._

_Explaining to a befuddled Cas that lap dances were great, and passing off the redhead on his lap to Cas._

_Said redhead convincing a very concerned Cas that “lap dances were actually super empowering, he should try it sometime.”_

_Cas disappearing with the chick, who introduced herself as Lucy and then stole his angel. Bitch._

_Shot of loneliness. Where did Sam get off to? Oh, he’s got a blonde on his lap in a dark corner. He’ll be good._

_Cas returns, but he’s not Cas anymore. He’s wearing clothes that aren’t his and being shoved onto the stage by a group of giggling strippers, being led by that stupid ginger who stole him away._

_The music changing, a deep, thumping beat, a voice overhead announcing Angel, who has “come to learn how to sin”. Dean wants to snort at the cheesy introduction but he can’t because his angel is dressed in tight black clothes and being touched by strippers and looking slightly scared._

_Their eyes connect, and Cas takes a deep breath, then steps forward._

_Slowly begins to rock his hips to the beat._

_Catcalls and hollering begin, and Dean wants to murder everyone in the room because they’re gonna make Cas even more uncomfortable than he already is, but Cas just smirks a little, the way he does when he makes a good pop culture reference and he’s proud of himself._

_The buttons of the shirt are coming undone, and Dean can’t seem to take his eyes away. It’s funny, because they’ve been killing evil shit together for eight years now, but he can count on one hand the amount of times he’s seen Castiel out of his trench coat, and on one finger the number of times he’s seen his shirtless. And that was only for a few seconds._

_Cas stares directly at him, like nobody else is in the room, as he slides the shirt off his shoulders and drops it at his feet. Not the most alluring move for a stripper, but it’s doing the job for Dean more than anything else has all night. And he’s pretty sure that Cas knows. He can feel the want showing on his face, in the way he leans toward the stage like he’s captivated, and for the first time he doesn’t care._

_Cas steps lightly off the stage and paces towards him, unconsciously keeping time with the beat. The crowd loses their minds, but Dean’s just holding his breath, praying for who-knows-what but something, something really important._

_Cas has never been one for personal space. He doesn’t stop until he’s standing right in front of him, knees touching, staring into his eyes, and Dean mouths ‘please’ without even thinking._

_The girls who had brought Cas out are doing something, but as Cas straddles his lap he literally cannot think a single thought that isn’t about the gorgeous angel in front of him, on him, gently rotating his hips to the pulsing bass. His hands land on Dean’s shoulders, and the heat travels through Dean’s already warm body like electric shocks. Cas brings their bodies impossibly closer, brushing their groins together lightly, and Dean lets out a low groan that he has entirely no control over. Cas is giving him the tamest lap dance he’s ever received and he’s pretty sure he might just explode into a million pieces but god forbid it ever end. The song turns into another one, and from the whooping and screeching around them he would guess someone’s on stage, doing something or other with a pole, which is good because that’s less people who might be looking at Cas._

_Cas stops moving, just sitting on Dean’s lap at this point. His hands trail down from Dean’s shoulders, running gently over his torso, and Dean can barely breathe anymore._

_“I see what Lucy meant. This is… empowering,” he said into Dean’s ear, which had the effect of pressing every inch of their torsos together, trapping Cas’s hands somewhere around his hips._

_His whole body is tingling and he’s never wanted to touch someone more in his whole entire life. He stares into Cas’s blue eyes, their noses almost brushing, and he wants this, needs this, so badly it makes his chest hurt._

_“Lucy said there’s not supposed to be kissing,” he whispers, and Dean breaks._

_“Fuck Lucy,” he half growls, closing the centimeters between them and crashing their mouths together. It’s messy and uncoordinated, with teeth clacking and biting, but it’s the best kiss he’s ever had._

_Cas jumps off his lap and drags him out of there so fast he’s not even sure what happened, until they’re in the alley outside and away from prying eyes._

_“Dean,” he says, his voice ragged, and Dean shoves him back against the bricks, taking charge of the kiss._

_Cas tastes like an afternoon thunderstorm, electricity and pure power running just below the surface of his skin. Dean’s reminded that he’s kissing the life out of an angel right now, a being who could smite him with a single touch, and that makes his blood pump faster, adrenaline and lust and something else he doesn’t want to name right now but has been feeling for a long time all mixing together and overwhelming him._

_“I want you. Cas. I need you,” he pants, pulling back from the kiss, eyes trained on Castiel’s bottom lip, which had been between his teeth a few seconds ago._

_“Dean. I’m yours. I’ve been yours,” he says simply, resting his hand on Dean’s bicep where his handprint used to be burned into his skin._

_Suddenly they’re in a hotel room, god only knows where, and Dean couldn’t care less at this moment. Their hands are everywhere, not able to get the clothes off fast enough, feet tripping and tangling their way to the enormous bed._

_Cas ends up straddling Dean again, staring down in awe at the canvas of skin beneath him._

_Dean laughs a little. “You know you can touch me, Cas.”_

_“I’m trying to decide where to start,” he mutters, brow furrowing like he’s solving a complex equation, but before Dean can pick on him for it he leans down and attaches his lips to Dean’s neck, causing his entire body to tense in pleasure and surprise. He gently nibbles a path downward, teeth scraping hesitantly over his collarbone, and Dean is just trying to hold himself still at this point. Cas sucks a nipple into his mouth and Dean cries out, his back arching off the mattress. Cas lets out a soft hum, then switches to the other side, this time nipping a little. Dean chokes out his name and flips them, so he’s kneeling above Cas, whose legs instinctively wrap around his waist to keep them as close as possible._

_“I was exploring.” Cas says, almost pouting, and Dean quickly traps his lip between his teeth again, making Cas gasp._

_“I was exploding,” he murmurs, then dives in for a proper kiss. Cas has no experience, so he lets Dean take the lead, trying to recreate the things Dean does with his tongue that feel so amazing._

_“You taste like heaven,” Dean groans as they pull apart, and Cas tilts his head slightly. “Heaven doesn’t have a ta-aste!” he chokes out the last word as Dean bites his earlobe and chuckles lowly, the air brushing against Cas’s skin in a way that makes him pant for breath._

_“I think I’ll be the judge of that,” he says, quickly traveling down Cas’s lean body, learning as he goes which places make Cas tick. He jumps when Dean runs his hands down the side of his ribs, and when he rubs his nose against his hipbone, Cas gasps for air. Dean wants to hear more than that – he wants to take his angel apart, piece by piece, and teach him just how amazing this can be, especially when it’s with someone you love. The thought doesn’t even give him pause, and he continues down, sucking a mark on Cas’s inner thigh and ignoring the place Cas needs him most._

_“Dean, please, I can’t,” Cas’s voice is breathless, his chest heaving from exertion already. Dean shoots him a smile then sucks him down, humming in victory when Cas nearly shrieks in response._

_“Dean!” His hands scrabble for purchase in the sheets, trying to hold himself together, but that wasn’t the point here._

_Dean swirls his tongue around the head of Cas’s dick, making Cas thrust into his mouth with a grunt. Dean hollows his cheeks, sucking as hard as he can, and Cas groans, which turns into “Fuck” when a hand caresses his balls._

_Hearing that come out of Cas’s mouth makes Dean unintentionally thrust against the air, wishing he had something to rub against to relieve his own ache._

_He goes back to work, licking and tonguing and tracing patterns all over Cas’s length, while Cas whimpers and babbles in languages Dean doesn’t speak. The guttural sounds of Enochian make lightning race up Dean’s spine and he reaches a hand up to Cas’s mouth._

_“Lick,” he tells him and Cas immediately obeys, worshiping the palm of Dean’s hand with his tongue. Cas sucks a finger in his mouth, copying what Dean has been doing to his dick, and Dean lets out a curse, withdrawing his spit-slicked hand from the reach of Cas’s needy mouth. He returns to Cas’s hipbone, biting and nibbling, both of their bodies vibrating with need. Dean grabs himself, letting out a hiss as he begins to stroke. Cas makes a choking noise, his eyes trained on where Dean’s hand is disappearing between his legs, but is quickly distracted by Dean putting his mouth on him again. He licks his way to his balls, teasing all of the sensitive spots, and Cas throws his head back into the pillow, straining with need._

_“Dean, please, please, please,” he begs, and Dean relaxes his throat, taking in his whole length at once. Cas’s hands fly to the back of Dean’s head, gripping the short strands of hair like his life depends on it. Dean moans in response, and that’s all it takes. Cas shouts his name as he comes, shooting down Dean’s throat, who jerks himself furiously at the sensation. Cas grabs at him, pulling him off his sensitive dick, yanking his face up until their lips meet. Cas licks the salty taste of himself out of Dean’s mouth, letting out a moan that almost makes Dean come._

_“Dean, I want to,” he breathes out against his lips, and Dean bites back a groan._

_“I wouldn’t last,” he tells Cas, his voice shaky as his hand speeds up. Cas kisses him again, distracting him, then bats Dean’s hand away and replaces it with his own._

_“I need to touch you,” he says, and Dean drops his head, muffling his cry into Cas’s shoulder._

_Cas runs his fingers along the shaft then strokes, his touch light as a feather, and Dean nips Cas in frustration. “Little harder, Cas,” he grunts out, and Cas obeys, gripping him tighter in his hand, jerking him more intensely. Dean cries out, one hand clawing into Cas’s hair, the other shaking as he holds himself up. His teeth scrape over Cas’s bicep, making Cas squeeze a little, which in turn makes him lose his mind that much quicker. Cas runs his thumbnail over the head of Dean’s dick and it’s over, Dean coming over Cas’s hand as he latches his mouth to Cas’s neck to keep from yelling. After a few seconds his arm collapses, making him fall onto Cas, dead weight. Cas wraps an arm around his back, clutching him to his chest, not caring about the come that’s going to stick them to each other. They breathe together, both of them overwhelmed by what just happened, coming down from what may just be the best sex Dean has ever had._

_“Was that,” Cas pauses. “Was that acceptable?” Dean snorts into Cas’s neck, who jumps, ticklish. “Acceptable? How about amazing? Brilliant? Mind melting? Jeez, I’ve never orgasmed harder and all you did was give me a thirty second handjob!”_

_Cas’s cheeks flush a little more, and Dean can’t help but smile at the, quite frankly, adorable man beneath him._

_“In my defense, I wanted to reciprocate accordingly –“_

_“Cas, I was so close to coming I wouldn’t have made it a second with your mouth on me,” Dean points out, and Cas pouts slightly. Dean nips at that bottom lip, which is one of his favorite new hobbies, and Cas gives in quickly._

_“Fine. But next time, I get to taste you,” he says, and Dean groans as his cock twitches valiantly._

_“Don’t say things like that, you’ll kill me.” He rolls over onto his back, bringing Cas with him so he’s curled up into his side._

_“Dean, I don’t sleep,” Cas protests, and Dean kisses him again._

_“I do. So shush,” he says teasingly, then quickly passes out._

 

Dean jolted to his feet, then ran for the toilet, afraid he might throw up all of the liquor from the night before.

The last thing he remembered before falling asleep was tangling his hand into Cas’s hair and being really determined not to let go. So why had he woken up in bed, alone, with Cas sitting across the room like he was afraid of something?

His stomach settled as a hand fell on his shoulder and he felt Cas kneel down beside him.

“Why,” he croaked out.

Cas let out a sigh. “Dean, I’m sorry, you had been drinking and I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you like that,” he started, trying to stand. Dean grabbed at the hand on his arm, gripping it tightly.

“No. Why didn’t you stay? In bed? Do you-” he felt the bile rising at the idea, but carried on. “Do you regret it?” He stared at the floor, afraid to hear that Cas did, that he had made a huge mistake, that he could never be with someone like Dean Winchester.

“Never,” Cas whispered, and Dean’s head snapped up. Their eyes met, as they had so many times over the years, and Dean found himself grinning at what he saw there. Desperate hope and a love so strong it might overflow out of Cas’s crystal blue eyes and carry them both away. Dean would let it.

“Me neither.”

Relief flooded Cas’s face and suddenly they were kissing again, arms entwined as they knelt on the floor of a hotel bathroom.

Dean pulled back abruptly, pressing his forehead against Cas’s.

“Cas, I-“

“You don’t have to say it, I already know.”

“I want to anyway. I love you.”

“I’ve always loved you, Dean Winchester.”

 

* * *

 

 

Sam stared at the ceiling, feeling a mix of dread and excitement, waiting. A whoosh of air and Gabriel appeared at the foot of the bed, an annoying grin on his annoying face.

“Don’t just stand there like an idiot, tell me!” Sam screeched at him, his voice most definitely not six octaves higher than usual.

“Calm down you yeti!” Gabriel yelled back, ducking the pillow that was instantly chucked at his head.

“This took a lot of planning, Gabe, I can’t be calm!” he shouted, practically bouncing on the bed at this point.

Gabriel snapped his fingers and the room was decked out in party fashion, complete with a disco ball and two glasses of champagne. He handed one to a giddy Sam, then clinked their glasses together.

“Well, your plan was much less fun than I would have liked-“

“For the last time, a volcano sacrifice was not a good idea!”

“Do not anger the gods, Abominable SnowSam.”

“You’re an angel, not a god – and a shitty one, at that!”

“REGARDLESS, you Mountain Mammoth, the POINT HERE is that our brothers are making out in front of a toilet, so we succeeded,” the archangel Gabriel yelled in a very official, archangel-y tone of voice.

“Yes! Wait, a toilet? What?” Sam asked, and Gabriel shook his head, then levitated himself so he could reach to ruffle Sam’s hair.

“Don’t question it, Belle, just revel in the joy of a job well done.”

“For the LAST TIME, I am NOT a DISNEY PRINCESS.”

“Whatever you say… Your Highness.”

 

And all was well in the kingdom of Gay Angel Love. Amen, and Thanks Be To Chuck.


End file.
